he and he alone could make Ellery Cramer happy.
He had Ellery’s cock down his throat, his fingers spreading Ellery’s ass, making him ready, when Ellery cried out, “Please, baby. I need you inside me. Please!”
And Jackson couldn’t tease him anymore.
Ellery Cramer was the kindest, smartest, hottest man Jackson had ever known, and if he needed Jackson in any capacity, that was Jackson’s right, it was his privilege, it was his pleasure to give it to him.
He stood at the edge of the bed and lifted Ellery’s good knee, careful of the one propped on the pillows, and entered him slowly, enjoying the way Ellery’s exposed throat patterned red with his sex flush and the way his body gripped Jackson’s cock like a slick fist. He slid all the way to the hilt, both of them letting out little groans of completion, and Ellery forced his hooded eyes to meet Jackson’s.
“Jackson?”
“Yeah?”
“Hard and fast.”
“Yes!”
Jackson was careful, even in the throes of the monster orgasm that was roaring in his blood, not to hurt Ellery’s healing body.
And it was so easy to let that monster roar through him as it was, spurred on by Ellery’s cries of pleasure, turned on by the sight of his hand stroking his own cock, his body stroked by Ellery’s asshole as he clenched so, so tight.
“Now!” he begged, and a year ago he would have been too proud to beg. And a year ago, Ellery would have forced him to take what he needed anyway.
But now, he could ask, and Ellery tilted his head back and cried out, his come jetting across his abdomen and chest.
The sight pushed Jackson over, and he closed his eyes and thrust one more time, spilling all that he was with his spend.
He stayed still for a moment, rutting, because his body was so locked in the action of fucking that it didn’t want to stop. Finally he opened his eyes and slid out, collapsing to Ellery’s side so he didn’t force Ellery to move the knee wrong.
Their heavy breathing filled the room, and he watched Ellery’s face avidly for a clue, any clue, to what he was feeling.
The slow smile curving his lips was a good sign.
“How was that?” he asked, feeling hopeful and a little wicked.
“I’m not sure,” Ellery said, the smile deepening. He opened his eyes and turned his head, capturing Jackson’s mouth in a hard kiss. Jackson returned it and then frowned.
“Wait a minute. You’re not sure?”
Ellery’s warm chuckle rippled up from his stomach. “We may have to do it again,” he teased breathlessly. “So, you know, I can see.”
Jackson laughed and kissed him some more before pulling back. “Okay, we can do it again. And maybe two or three more times after that. But then we have to stop and get some sleep.”
“On our anniversary weekend?” Ellery asked, eyes widening in mock outrage. “Why would we have to stop and get some sleep?”
Jackson propped his head up on his hands and began to run his fingertips desultorily over Ellery’s chest. “Because we,” he said, “have to get a kitten. Remember?”
Ellery’s surprise showed Jackson that he’d forgotten. Then he captured Jackson’s fingertips and kissed them. “I do now. I’d love to. Happy anniversary, Detective.”
Jackson laced their fingers together. “Happy anniversary, Counselor. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
They would make love again soon, he knew, and maybe even a third time, because he always wanted Ellery.
And then they would sleep and have a normal, everyday weekend filled with small things like visiting friends and playing with kittens.
They would rest, fill up with the good things in their lives, make sure their hearts were good to go again.
It was a rough world out there, and even the best of men were asked to make hard decisions sometimes.
They had so much work to do.
And as always, I’ve included the shorts written between Fish Out of Water novels. The last short is—by request—about Dave and Alex, the two adorable, competent, compassionate nurses who take such good care of our guys.
Thanks to all my health-care people out there—you are remembered and treasured. And even before the 2020 pandemic, you’ve always been heroes.
Cold Water
A Jackson and Ellery Story
Necessary Journey
“I DON’T want to leave Billy Bob,” Jackson said mulishly.
“Cat’s fine.” Ellery labored to throw both their carry-ons into the trunk. He’d packed Jackson’s with cargo shorts, tees, hooded sweatshirts, and tennis shoes because that was pretty much all he wore anyway.
“Aren’t I supposed to go back to work in six…?”
Ellery got into the driver’s seat of